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Dr. Jack Hamilton Armstrong – Part 3

March 29, 2010 / / 1 Comment

This is third in a series of excerpts from the book: Dad’s Memories: Growing Up Poor, But Rich, by Dr. Jack Hamilton Armstrong (written for his Grandchildren)

CHURCH AND SUNDAY SCHOOL

Long before I can remember I am sure I was bundled up and taken to Sunday School every Sunday and stayed for Church following. Then I was taken to Prayer meetings every Wednesday evening as well. This continued until I was old enough to begin remembering the people who were always there, the songs that were sung and the lessons being taught.

The two Sunday School Superintendents I particularly remember are Aldice Jackson and Becham Godsey. They would always ask if there were any birthdays and if it was your birthday you were supposed to go up to the altar and put in a penny for each of your years of age.

There were also the annual Christmas plays in which you were expected to participate. Also there were the annual revivals when a visiting minister would come and conduct meeting for one or heaven forbid two weeks at which you were expected to attend every night. Occasionally there would be all day Church dinners which were usually a lot of fun for us kids as well as having a lot of good food!

Dad would only occasionally go to Church services. However, he would always take Mom and I and then wait at the filling station until it was time for the service to end and pick us up. When Grandma Moore was in residence during the summer he would drop Mom and I off at the Methodist Church and drop Grandma Moore at the Christian Church and then pick us all up following services.

One of the ladies at Church was Mae Tucker. She only had an older son, but she loved children. One Sunday morning Mom was getting me ready to go to Sunday School and I was crying and not wanting to get ready and Mom asked what was the matter and I said I didn’t want to go because Mae Tucker would kiss me.

My least favorite Church song was the Old Rugged Cross. It had about 6 verses and was always sung near the close of services when I was tired and sleepy and it seemed to go on forever. When I was about 12 years old I joined the Church and was baptized in Spring Creek over the hill from the Methodist Cemetery on what was then Frank Cobb’s farm.

To be continued….

Taken from the book: Dad’s Memories: Growing Up Poor, But Rich, by Dr. Jack Hamilton Armstrong (written for his Grandchildren)

Dr. Jack Hamilton Armstrong

January 21, 2010 / / 3 Comments

This is the first in a series of excerpts from the book: Dad’s Memories: Growing Up Poor, But Rich, by Dr. Jack Hamilton Armstrong (written for his Grandchildren)

I was born 1 mile north of Springville, Indiana at home, in the North bedroom, on a small general grain and livestock farm on April 14th 1931. It was in the throws of the Great Depression so no one had much ready cash and activities—both work and play—involved very little money, either earned or spent. For example, a fellow named Cookie Kirkman worked for Dad on the farm for many years for $1 a day. I remember riding to Springville on my bicycle, on a gravel road, and watching Cookie and other guys play pea pool on Saturday afternoons for 10 cents a pea and sometimes Cookie would win a whole day’s wages: $1! I also remember Dad and Mom telling of the time a show came to Springville and they and Jess and Ruth Noel, who were living with them at the time, wanted to go but did not have any money. So they caught some chickens and sold them to get enough money to go. As a result it must be said we were as well off as everyone else at the time. However, in terms of having a loving family, plenty of good food, and certainly enough interesting things to do, I was truly blessed.

Armstrong House

The house I grew up in was built in 1860. It originally had 3 fireplaces, but two of them had been closed and were no longer being used by the time I entered the scene. The house was heated by a wood burning cook stove in the kitchen, a drum stove in the south bedroom, and a fireplace in the living room (until it got really cold and it was closed and a coal stove was put up to provide more heat). One winter a teacher by the name of Defoe lived with us and gave me a new dictionary for Christmas; I drew a picture of the stove on the flyleaf. I still have it.

Armstrong House Fire

The house was finally burned Sunday October 1st, 2006 by the Perry Township Fire Department. I watched and took pictures. Interestingly enough, they started the fire in the north bedroom where I was born.

To be continued….

Taken from the book: Dad’s Memories: Growing Up Poor, But Rich, by Dr. Jack Hamilton Armstrong (written for his Grandchildren)

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